


The Doctor and the Flyboy

by blackkat



Category: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-07
Updated: 2011-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>I am utterly sleep deprived, but wide awake. This is why I don't drink coffee. Pr0n results. There is no plot. There is not even the suggestion of one. Just two of my favorite characters...uh...yeah, you get the picture.</i></p><p><i>P.S.~ It is not, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be, mine. </i></p>
    </blockquote>





	The Doctor and the Flyboy

**Author's Note:**

> _I am utterly sleep deprived, but wide awake. This is why I don't drink coffee. Pr0n results. There is no plot. There is not even the suggestion of one. Just two of my favorite characters...uh...yeah, you get the picture._
> 
>  _P.S.~ It is not, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be, mine._

"What the _hell_ do you think you were doing in there? _Flaunting_ yourself?" Sulu demanded, using the collar of the worn, stretched-out shirt to pin McCoy to the wall. They'd managed to make it out of the gym—if only barely.

McCoy struggled faintly against the grip, but couldn't budge either of them. Sulu, for all his wiry grace, had enough muscle mass to rival anyone in Security, and McCoy's hands were busy keeping the fencing sword from impaling him. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he protested, but it was futile. And a bit of a white lie. For a while, the practice matches—carefully within sight of the pilot, of course, just to drive him that little bit crazier—had kept him occupied, but now…now his mouth was starting to feel lonely again. He licked his lips unconsciously, trying to remedy that. He'd gotten so used to Sulu's constant presence on their all-too-brief shore leave, and now their necessary distance while on shift was killing him.

Sulu's eyes glazed over as he followed the movement of that soft, pink tongue and recalled how it had looked wrapped around McCoy's fork during dinner—during which the good doctor had, of course, tested the very limits of his patience. McCoy wasn't one for restraint—or if he had ever been, he sure as hell wasn't now.

Then Sulu's imagination replaced the fork with something better, and he groaned.

Hearing the low, pained sound, McCoy stopped struggling and looked at his captor, eyes narrowing faintly. "Hikaru? Are you—mmph!"

That was all he got out before Sulu's mouth crashed down over his, effectively sealing it. And then McCoy's mouth wasn't empty anymore. Sulu's tongue swept in, fierce and hot, and McCoy moaned as all the wanting disappeared. _This_ was what he had needed.

Finally, Sulu dragged his head away, breathing hard. In a swift movement, he sheathed his sword and grabbed McCoy's wrist, dragging the other man after him down the hall. His voice emerged as a bare growl.

"Your room or mine?"

McCoy's legs went weak, but he managed to keep up and answer at the same time. "Mine. CMO's rooms are closer."

Sulu closed his eyes briefly, releasing a prayer of thanks that McCoy had had his quarters moved to be nearer to Sickbay. The new room would have a bigger bed, too. "All right. In. _Now_." He keyed in the door code—with secret glee that he _had_ the door code, because that meant this wasn't just a fling, it was something _real—_ and all but tossed McCoy onto the wide mattress.

McCoy landed with a yelp and a bounce, and then didn't have time for anything more before Sulu was on him, pressing him down into the thick quilt. The pilot grabbed McCoy's head in his hands, positioning his mouth so that he could get the best angle. His hands fisted in the older man's soft, baby-fine hair, not gentle at all, but McCoy didn't care. He arched up under Sulu's body, rubbing against the straining erection that ground into his hip. All the while, Sulu was devouring McCoy, his tongue dipping in, tasting, teasing, fucking the other man's mouth in an imitation of what his body wanted to do elsewhere.

McCoy whimpered as Sulu rubbed against his aching erection, and wrapped his hands in Sulu's black hair, pulling him closer and pressing into his mouth. The strands felt like dark silk against his skin, and he wound his fingers in them as much as he could, pulling the other man back just enough that he was able to breathe.

"Sulu," he moaned, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and need, accent dropping molasses-thick and warm with Southern charm around each word. "I want you in my mouth. Now. Please."

Sulu closed his eyes as a shiver raced down his spine, the stupid fork-image from before bursting back into his mind. He was half-surprised that it wasn't accompanied by a marching band and a choir singing the Hallelujah chorus. Not needing any more prompting, he rolled off of McCoy and dragged the older man halfway into his lap, yanking off the worn, nearly see-though shirt and tossing it out of the way without a care for where it landed. McCoy's fingers were busy with his own belt, his teeth occupied with loosening Sulu's. Sulu helped, peeling off his own exercise clothes and undoing his pants as soon as the belt was free. The material landed in a heap on the floor, McCoy's quickly following, and was soon joined by two pairs of boxers.

Finally naked—though if there was a land-speed record for getting out of clothes, they had probably just broken it—McCoy draped himself over Sulu's lap and eyed the engorged shaft bobbing in front of him, then shot the other man a wicked grin. "Are you sure you want this? It looks like you're about to—"

"Stop talking, Leo," Sulu growled, winding a hand in that soft brown hair. It was longer than was strictly regulation, and a corner of his mind wondered if it was because Kirk liked it that way, too, that McCoy hadn't cut it. If it was, he was glad, and wouldn't begrudge the captain that little bit of looking—because everyone knew that they'd had something back at the Academy, and that it was over now that Kirk had Spock (and it was moot, anyway, because _he_ had McCoy now, and he wasn't planning on letting him go). And, _God_ , what a picture it made. With his fair hair falling over his face, his green-gold-hazel eyes dilated with want, and his tanned skin flushed a ruddy pink, McCoy was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen.

McCoy's breathing stuttered at the roughness in Sulu's voice, and he shivered. The domineering attitude that so aggravated him in Jim and Spock was an incredible turn-on at the moment. So he obeyed, leaning forward and sliding his lips over the crown of Sulu's cock. He sucked just the tip into his mouth, running his tongue over the smooth surface and the slit there. Sulu's taste flooded his senses, making him moan, and Sulu shuddered above him. Long-fingered hands wound in his hair, pushing his head down farther as Sulu rasped, voice thick with humor, "Get on with it, Leo, or are you going to keep me waiting all day?"

Grinning smugly around his mouthful, McCoy changed angles and took all of Sulu in his mouth in a single swoop, then slid back up the shaft with maddening slowness, his tongue tracing the veins and smooth skin as he went. Sulu groaned above him, hips twitching, but he kept himself from thrusting into the other man's mouth. Letting go of McCoy with one hand, he leaned forward, sliding his palm along the older man's skin in a hungry caress. McCoy rewarded him with a hard suck that had Sulu seeing stars.

Knowing he wasn't going to last much longer, and fully prepared to take this situation as far as it could go, Sulu reluctantly tugged McCoy out of his lap. "Enough, Leo. My turn."

McCoy released him with a pop that made his eyes cross, and shuddered at the look on his face. Without a word, he rolled over on his back and spread his legs in invitation. His breathing was choppy as he felt the desire building, his own shaft hard to the point of pain.

"Please, Hikaru," he murmured.

Sulu smirked, leaning down to kiss his collarbone, then nipping at the flushed skin. "Please what, Leo?" He went lower, licking a circle around McCoy's nipple, but never touching the hard nub.

McCoy whimpered at the feel of the other's tongue on him. "Hikaru—"

Not waiting for him to finish, the younger man pressed two fingers against his lips and murmured, "Suck."

McCoy did as he was told, drawing the digits deep into his mouth and licking them desperately as Sulu continued his ministrations, carefully avoiding McCoy's nipples, but laving the skin in between with his tongue. Then he started to work his way lower.

"You taste so good," he whispered, giving the inside of McCoy's smooth tight a long, slow lick. "Like salt and sweat and _mine_." His long fingers encircled McCoy's cock, tightening and then slowly stroking the length. The motion was unhurried despite the need they both felt, and he used his body weight to pin one of the other man's legs to the bed.

McCoy moaned around Sulu's fingers, then released the digits and moaned. "Please, Hikaru. _Please_."

Sulu smirked against McCoy's skin, even as his fingers slid over the man's entrance, circling it teasingly. Oh so carefully, oh so slowly, one slick finger pushed past the tight ring of muscle and slid into his depths. McCoy cried out at the intrusion, hips arching despite Sulu's weight on his leg. His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing increasing, and he grabbed for Sulu's hair again. "Hikaru, please!"

"Please what?" Sulu asked, stopping his hand on McCoy's shaft, his fingers deep inside the man's tight, tense body. "Tell me what you want, Leo, or I won't give you anything."

As if to emphasize his point, he released McCoy's cock and moved his hand away, fingers still maddeningly still. McCoy squirmed, trying to push himself down, trying to impale himself further on those long fingers. Desperate, he gasped and threw his head back, letting out a long, keening moan.

"Hikaru, please! Take me! Fuck me hard!"

Those words coming from McCoy's luscious mouth made Sulu even harder, if that was possible. He closed his eyes, renewing a fraction of his control so that he didn't come on the spot, and then realized what was missing. "We need lube." He thought for a moment, then reached for his pants and what he knew was in one of the pockets.

" _No_ , Hikaru. We are _not_ using sword polish. Unless you _really_ aren't that attached to your equipment."

It was a low growl, but promised a painful death—possibly castration—by way of hypos if it wasn't obeyed _immediately_.

Sulu faltered slightly, then glanced up at the panting, narrow-eyed doctor who was spread so temptingly over the bed. "Then what do you suggest? I'm not about to just stop." He scissored his fingers to prove the point.

McCoy's head fell back, his full, swollen lips parting and allowing a needy moan to escape. "Bedside table…drawer…lube. Hurry!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Sulu lunged for the nightstand, dragged it open, and pulled out the tube. Quickly, he squeezed out a palm-full, spreading some over himself and using the excess on McCoy. The doctor's body opened easily under the onslaught of Sulu's fingers, and McCoy thrashed, whimpering again. The noise, coupled with the sight he made, was more than Sulu could take. Without pausing, he grabbed McCoy's hips, flipped him over, and drove himself into the other man.

McCoy keened into the mattress, hands fisting in the quilt as he shuddered, trying to adjust to the feeling of being filled so completely. Above him, Sulu wrapped his arms around the older man's waist, leaning forward to lay a trail of kisses up his spine. McCoy shivered as the pilot shifted within him, his muscles clenching involuntarily. With a hiss, Sulu tensed, and seemed to grow even larger inside of him. The doctor cried out again, then gripped the sheets and drove himself back against Sulu, impaling himself even more deeply. The thin thread of control that Sulu had been clinging to broke with an almost audible crack, and he snapped his hips forward, driving McCoy into the mattress as he settled into a hard, fast, and deep rhythm that left the other man with barely even enough breath to cry out. Both were panting hard, and knew they wouldn't last long.

Sulu's hand slipped lower along McCoy's hip, then closed around his shaft, pumping it. McCoy gave a breathless moan, his muscles tightening again, and Sulu felt his release even before the hot cum spilled over his hand. With a groan, Sulu let go as well, plunging forward into the tight channel and releasing his seed deep within McCoy's body.

They both stayed frozen for a long moment, heart rates slowing, and then McCoy's arms folded under him, bearing him down to the bed as Sulu's softening shaft slipped out of him. Sulu shuddered at the feeling and let himself fall as well, dropping onto the bed next to McCoy and curling himself around the other man. McCoy turned in his arms and snuggled closer, resting his head on Sulu's shoulder with a contented sigh. With Sulu's arms around him, feeling wonderfully, deliciously sore, he let his eyes close and allowed sleep to overtake him.

Sulu looked down at the man in his arms and smiled, ever so slightly—not a proud smirk, not a cocky grin, but a real smile. He gently kissed McCoy's forehead, brushing the soft strands of hair out of his face, and then pulled the doctor closer. They fit together perfectly as they lay there, and Sulu found his eyes closing. With a soft sigh, he relaxed and let it, breathing in the faintly sandalwood smell of McCoy's hair as he drifted off.

"Love you, Leo," he murmured.

McCoy gave a sleepy mumble, eyes slitting open, and then subsided again with a barely audible, "Love you, too, Hikaru."

* * *


End file.
